


I Want To Feel

by Pippin



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25677034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippin/pseuds/Pippin
Summary: You can really tell where I lost the thread of the story and just needed it done.
Relationships: Drumbot Brian/Gunpowder Tim
Comments: 3
Kudos: 73





	I Want To Feel

“What do you most miss about being human?” Tim asked over breakfast one day.

The question was a loaded one on the Aurora, and the answer changed day to day, even hour to hour at times. Nevertheless, it was one that was asked fairly frequently, as it always led to interesting results.

The other Mechs chimed in as answers came to them. Finally, it was only their pilot left.

Brian hummed, a sound of contemplation. “Being able to get off,” he said eventually.

Marius dropped a plate.

“You can’t get off?” His voice was incredulous, and Jonny shot him a Look.

“Trade him a day, maybe you’ll actually get around to fucking someone.”

Marius flipped Jonny off.

“Yeah, Carmilla skipped _that_ part of building a humanoid robot.” Brian’s voice was bitter at the mention of Carmilla, but then softened again. “So no, I can’t get off. Can fuck someone no problem, I’ve enough attachments for it, but can’t get off.”

“And here I was thinking you just weren’t interested in coming,” Jonny muttered.

Brian shrugged. “I’m, ah, _very_ interested. But it is what it is. No use longing for the unattainable.”

* * *

It had been a rough day all around. Most of the crew was going through their own regeneration processes, but Brian had reached the end of what he could do on his own. The specific portion of paneling and wiring was at too awkward an angle for him to get at it himself, so he headed out into the halls of the ship to look for help.

He stumbled across Tim sitting on one of the kitchen counters eating a bowl of cereal in the dark, eyes reflecting the dim light from the hallway.

“Jesus, Tim. If I didn’t have dark vision eyes you’d have given me a goddamn heart attack.”

Tim shrugged, taking another bite of cereal. “Not my problem.”

Brian refrained from saying that it was, in fact, entirely Tim’s problem. “Do you have a minute?”

Tim hopped off the counter, not spilling a drop of cereal with the movement. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Brian pulled up his t-shirt to show the problematic panel on his sternum.

“Buy me some dinner first, don’t you,” Tim cracked, sharp eyes surveying the damage. He reached out to prod it gently, fingertips skating over the dented metal with all the grace that was usually reserved for dancing on the strings of his guitar.

A tingle ran along Brian’s wire nerves, a feeling reminiscent of the shivers he vaguely remembered from his days of having a flesh body. It was easy enough to ignore, though, as he realigned his focus to the issue at hand.

“Can you help me fix it?”

“Of course,” Tim said, setting his cereal down. “Yours or mine?”

“Mine,” Brian said after a moment. Tim’s workroom probably had the supplies needed, but he _knew_ his own room did.

Tim nodded and followed Brian back down the hall, walking soundlessly on bare feet. Brian envied that; he was so loud when he moved, all clanging metal and creaking joints.

Once they reached Brian’s room he pulled his t-shirt off and over his head, tossing it aside to give Tim easier access to his chest and the damaged paneling.

“Can you sit on the desk?” Tim asked, crossing the room to grab the stool Brian had set under his collection of instruments. When he turned back Brian was perched on the edge of the desk fiddling mindlessly with a screwdriver.

Tim took a moment to admire Brian. Carmilla may have been an awful person, but she did have an eye for designing aesthetically pleasing robots. Brian was, to be perfectly honest, incredibly attractive. Then he settled both the stool and himself between Brian’s legs, reaching up to take the screwdriver from Brian’s fingers.

One of the screws holding the panel in place was bent, and Tim ended up needing to go for metal cutters to get it free. Brian had plenty of replacements; it wasn’t an issue.

The panel finally came free, exposing the inner workings of Brian’s chest. The inner pieces were bent, the wires around them tangled into knots that would seem impossible were it not for the proclivities of wires in general.

“I think I’m going to have to take some of this out,” Tim said, prodding gently at the wires with the screwdriver, and Brian shuddered.

“I hate that feeling,” he muttered, seemingly not for Tim’s ears, although he picked it up anyway. “Go for it.”

Tim’s slender fingers worked their way into the open cavity of Brian’s chest, gripping onto a piece of metal that had snapped clear in half. He pulled it out as gently as he could, but Brian still swore, a pained note in his voice.

“Sorry!” Tim quickly pulled out the other half, wincing slightly. He had no qualms about gratuitous violence, but Brian had specifically asked for help, which changed things.

Once the metal was out, Tim could see more clearly the mess of wires tangled in Brian’s chest. He reached out, twisting the knot in his fingers, and Brian swore violently and colorfully, his entire body jerking hard enough that he nearly fell off the desk.

Tim pulled his hand away immediately, and stared at Brian, who stared back, eyes wide.

“Do that again,” he said, voice surprisingly breathy for someone who didn’t actually need to breathe.

“Are you _okay_?” Tim asked, still not moving from where his hand was frozen in midair between himself and Brian.

Brian nodded vigorously, hand gripping Tim’s own tight enough that Tim could feel his bones grating against one another. Then he let go, eyes huge and dark. Tim recognized that look, although he hadn’t known Brian, of all people, could wear it.

He looked turned on, which gave a whole new context to his reaction to Tim touching the wires.

Tim reached out, twisting the wires again, and Brian bucked against him again. Some corner of Tim’s mind remembered the conversation years ago where Brian had said that he missed being able to get off, and, judging by his reaction, his ability thereof hadn’t changed until this moment.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Tim muttered, and Brian snapped his head around to look at him.

Tim’s eyes were blown as wide as Brian’s, and he was hard in his pants. “Wanna make you feel good,” he said, voice rough. “Wanna treat you.”

Brian gave a quick thanks to whatever was out there that they were in his room and not Tim’s workshop. Not that he had any objections to fucking in Tim’s workshop, but in his own room he had his collection of attachable dicks. 

With difficulty he climbed down from the desk, not wanting to move away from Tim, but knowing he had to. He shed his pants and underthings as he made his way over to the box they were stored in. “Which would you like?”

Tim’s voice was strangled. “Surprise me.”

Brian took a moment to consider, glancing over the collection he’d amassed over the years. There were options of all shapes, human, otherwise, ones he’d acquired himself and ones the other crew members had gifted him. That made the choice simple enough; he’d only ever gotten one from Tim, on the larger side with a rippled surface.

Attaching it only took a moment, as familiar as Brian was with the process. When he turned back Tim had moved to the bed that he technically didn’t need but kept for some semblance of humanity, not to mention encounters like this. 

Tim’s pants were still on, but he’d stripped his shirt off. As Brian approached the bed he slid off it and onto his knees, peering up at Brian through long lashes.

“Want to blow you while you get yourself off,” he said, dark eyes huge, and Brian would need to be a stronger man than he’d ever been to say no to that. He sat on the edge of the bed, spreading his knees for Tim to slot himself between them. Once Tim was situated Brian relaxed his legs, crossing his ankles at the nape of Tim’s neck.

Tim dove right in, sinking down on Brian’s cock as far as he could take it. Brian shuddered. He didn’t have great sensation in his body as a whole, and the connection between his cock and whatever part of his being processed what sensation he did receive was weaker than the rest. That being said, he could still register a warm pressure where Tim’s mouth slid over him, and that combined with the visual only contributed to his arousal.

Then Tim pulled off, glancing up at Brian. “Touch yourself for me,” he ordered before diving back in.

Brian brought his hand to his own chest, tangling his fingers into the mess of wires. The feeling was stronger than it had been before, combined as it was with Tim sliding his mouth slowly over his cock, and he bucked his hips up unconsciously. His free hand tangled in Tim’s hair even as his legs fell loosely to the sides, shoving Tim’s head down and further onto his cock.

Tim made a garbled noise, fingernails scraping against Brian’s thighs as he clung to him. Meanwhile Brian was lost in the sensation, using Tim’s mouth even as sparks of pleasure, some literal, traveled his body.

Brian was fucking Tim’s mouth in earnest now, hips coming off the bed in aborted thrusts and his grip on Tim’s hair dragging his head up and down. It was only a moment more before his brain went offline for a moment, overloaded as it was with pleasure of the sort he’d not felt since he’d had a human body millennia before.

When Brian came back, he realized how tightly he’d been gripping Tim’s hair and released it immediately, letting the other pull off his cock.

“Fuck,” Tim muttered, voice ragged. His face was wet, both from spit and tears, and Brian felt a pang of regret, coupled with a fresh surge of arousal. He wasn’t the sort to lose control like that, chasing his own pleasure at the expense of his partner.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, cradling Tim’s face gently, wiping away tears with his thumb.

Tim laughed, tipping his head further into Brian’s touch. “For what? That was ridiculously hot.” He coughed once, rubbing his throat, and Brian did not feel better, despite Tim’s words. “You’re always so in control. It was so hot seeing you lose that composure for once.”

He pushed himself up onto the bed, collapsing on his back next to Brian. “I still want you to fuck me.”

Brian shook his head, alarmed. “I already hurt you once. I can’t risk doing it again.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “First of all, you know full well that there’s nothing you can do that I won’t heal from. Secondly, I want you to hurt me. Third, if you get yourself off again will you at least consider it? I’m assuming you’re not limited to the recovery time that those of us with flesh bodies are.”

Brian ran a considering hand over the wires, then nodded.

Tim propped himself up on his elbows, raking his eyes over Brian’s form. “I want to see you get off again.”

Brian was a little more self-conscious this time, with Tim’s eyes fixed on him, watching every move. It had been much easier earlier, with Tim’s talented mouth sliding along him, but Tim had asked him to do this, and he honestly did want to fuck Tim.

The build this time was slower as he experimented with different wires and ways of touching them. As it progressed, Tim crawled up to perch on his lap, sharp eyes darting between Brian’s open chest panel where he played with the wires and his face.

Brian’s face was a sight to behold, his normal composure gone and instead his features slack with pleasure. Tim wanted to kiss him, so he did. Brian just gasped into his mouth, hand working between their chests.

The brush of metal against Tim’s bare skin was an infuriating tease, and he couldn’t help but unbuttoning his trousers and slipping a hand inside. His hips twitched at the first brush of his hand, and Brian’s eyes snapped open, taking a moment before focusing on Tim’s face.

“Want to touch you,” he said between harsh breaths, and Tim nodded, pulling his hand away to let Brian replace it with his own.

Brian’s touch was cold, but it was so good, and Tim twisted on Brian’s lap at the mix of sensations.

Between them, Brian’s other hand stuttered and he froze, eyes flashing a rainbow of colors and grip on Tim tightening to just before the point of pain.

A moment later Brian came back online and his grip on Tim loosened, hand slipping out of Tim’s pants.

“Do you still want me to fuck you?”

“ _God, yes_.”

Brian patted Tim’s hip, gesturing for him to get up. He got the lube while Tim stripped the rest of his clothing off, slicking up his fingers while he waited.

Tim returned, climbing past Brian to recline on the bed, propped up on his elbows, a smirk on his face.

Brian slid in between Tim’s legs, circling a finger around his entrance. He watched the smirk slide from Tim’s face as he moaned, pushing his hips into Brian’s touch.

Brian petted Tim’s flank gently with his free hand, trying to get him to settle as he eased a finger into him. It didn’t work, but that was hardly his fault.

Tim met Brian’s eyes hungrily, his own doing some weird dilation thing that no one had ever been able to figure out the purpose of. Brian didn’t care to try and sort it out at this particular moment, however, more interested in making Tim fall apart under him.

He did so by sliding a second finger alongside the first, Tim’s body opening beautifully for him. The man himself threw his head back as Brian prodded gently for the spot that would make him scream, smiling in self-satisfaction as Tim did exactly that, clenching down hard around his fingers and making Brian’s pressure sensors sing.

“Please, more,” Tim begged before too long, and how could Brian deny him anything when he looked like this. So he gave Tim a third finger and leaned down to kiss him, to swallow the pretty moans and cries he made.

As soon as Brian moved away to press biting kisses to Tim’s collarbones and shoulders, the other man was begging him so prettily to just _fuck him already_ , one hand in Brian’s hair and the other dancing around the edges of the open panel on his chest.

And, if Brian continued the theme of being unable to deny anything to Tim when he begged like that, who was there to know?

They both groaned when Brian pushed in, his head dropping to press against Tim’s before he started to set a slow, steady pace. 

Tim tangled his graceful fingers in Brian’s wires, and it took all of Brian’s concentration and resolve to not break then and there.

Instead, he adjusted the angle until Tim’s breath hitched, then focused his attentions there as he increased his speed until Tim was screaming, one hand scrabbling wildly at Brian’s back, searching for purchase he wasn’t going to find, and the other clenching wildly at wires with no rhyme or reason. It didn’t matter, though; the erratic bursts of pleasure were still enough to drive Brian closer to his own peak for the third time.

“I want you to come like this,” he told Tim, no hint in his voice of how much any of this was getting to him.

Tim nodded, eyes wild and hair in disarray, so disheveled and so _pretty_. Brian told him as much, and Tim keened.

It didn’t take much longer for Tim to come, spilling over his own stomach with an aborted cry as the hand in Brian’s wires clenched, the sharp and prolonged burst of pleasure enough to send Brian spiraling over the edge right after him.

When he came back to himself, Tim was still idly playing with his wires, sending bursts of too-sharp pleasure-pain through Brian’s body. The other man’s eyes were reverent, gazing up at Brian with all the worship usually reserved for a god. Brian couldn’t help but kiss him.

Tim wiggled slightly, and Brian knew that was a sign he was going to bite, so he pulled away and out of Tim, grabbing one of the cleaning cloths Raphaella had developed out of his bedside table. He swiped it through the mess on Tim’s stomach, ignoring the little whines that suggested Tim could go again, then grabbed the panel that would cover the open spot on his chest.

Tim was in no spot to help reattach the panel, so Brian did his best to put the tiny screws back in himself, wrist contorting at an angle that would be concerning were he still flesh. Then he climbed back into bed, curling against Tim’s warm skin. Tim made a sleepy noise, and Brian simply stroked his hair before letting himself fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> You can really tell where I lost the thread of the story and just needed it done.


End file.
